


How to Decorate Cookies or Your Boyfriend Instead

by VeryImportantDemon



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fitzsimmons going at it, He likes helping his science babies, Hunter is a good father (ish), Pointless fluff, Science Babies, cookie decorating (or lack thereof)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 19:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5427767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryImportantDemon/pseuds/VeryImportantDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How to Decorate Cookies or Your Boyfriend Instead: A Quick Guide to Baking Cookies and Getting Laid by Jemma Simmons with the sequel, How to Recognize the Innocent Sounds of Holiday Foreplay in Your Seemingly Innocent Science Babies: A Quick Guide to Not Getting Scarred For Life by Lance Hunter</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Decorate Cookies or Your Boyfriend Instead

**Author's Note:**

> A quick cute Fitzsimmons one shot for the holiday season! I don't own any of the characters or the show.

Hunter was hungry.  
  
He just wanted a snack the first time he saw it.

He'd just gotten down with a half an hour ass-kicking session, which Bobbi referred to as 'training'. No way that was training. He just wanted something to eat and something vaguely or incredibly alcoholic to drink. (He wasn't biased.)  
  
Lance Hunter sighed deeply, wandering down the hallway with an ice pack on him of his eyes. He wondered dimly if there was some of that chicken noodle soup left that Mack had made the other night (The big guy was a wiz at cooking) when he heard it.  
  
Foreplay.  
  
He froze just inside the doorway of the little kitchenette of the Playground. The scene that unfolded before him had the distinct smell of foreplay and chocolate chips about it. The two resident scientists on the base were... Making cookies. In was sickeningly sweet. Simmons seemed to definitely be the leader in the project . She instructed Fitz to stir the batter, while he did, using a white plastic spoon. She turned to finish icing one of the cookies on the table behind them - Christmas cookies, everything was distinctly Christmasy in the base around this time - and he stuck his tongue out at her back. Fitz stuck his finger in the bowl and stuck in his mouth, munching on the raw cookie dough.  
  
Jemma turned around just in time to see Fitz removing his finger. "Fitz!" she cried. She smacked him on the back of the hand with the knife, still covered in creamy vanilla icing. "Jemma! Ow!" he cried, but he lifted the back of his hand up to his mouth to clean off the icing. "Stop eating the cookie dough," she chastised. "There won't be any left. Besides, you'll get sick."  
  
There was a moment of silence before Fitz spoke again.  
  
"Make me," he said, lowering his hand and smirking. Jemma sighed. "Make you do what?" she asked cheekily, one hand on her hip and the other half brandishing the butter knife covered in icing. "Whatever you want," Fitz replied, and if he hadn't used the same line before or been spying on them, he may have puked. It was so cute.  
  
"Oh, really?" the British biochemist asked, arching one eyebrow. "Really," the Scottish engineer said, and _seriously_ , Hunter was going to _vomit_. He decided to avert his eyes for a second, and when he looked back, Fitz had Jemma against the fridge and they were aggressively lip-locking, sprinkles and icing in Fitz hair.  
  
Hunter really didn't want to know how that happened. (If you want ever find out, don't tell him.)  
  
For some reason, he and Jemma made eye contact in that moment. She paused and Fitz gently pulled back. (Damn, he'd have to give the Scottish kid The Talk. He admired his game; Fits worked fast and he clearly knew what his audience wanted. Fitz was good...)  
  
"Did you want something, Hunter?" Jemma asked innocently. Neither of them had moved. "Uh... No?" he said, taking a step back. "I'm good. Great. A-okay." He gave them a thumbs up with his free hand and backed down the hallway.  
  
He waited until he wasn't out of sight before he turned and ran but he wasn't out of hearing range when he heard somethings he'd rather forget.  
  
Hunter wrapped his last condom in red and green paper and left it on top of Fitz's desk in the lab.

* * *

The gift was gone two days later.

* * *

Three nights later, Hunter thought the kitchen was safe. He'd gotten hungry in the middle of the night and decided to see if any of the foreplay cookies were left. (He decided he wasn't going to call them foreplay cookies anymore. He wanted to eat them.)  
  
He yawned and wandered down the hallway towards the kitchenette. He walked in and froze. He hadn't been paying attention to what he was hearing.  
  
He walked out and forgot the cookies.  
  
Hunter and Fitz didn't make eye contact for a week.


End file.
